


i'm here, i'll always be here

by MermaidMarie



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 11:24:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidMarie/pseuds/MermaidMarie
Summary: Prompt on Tumblr: “I know you’re the president of the Anti-Social Club, but why don’t you join me?”In which Julia tries to get Quentin to go to a party.





	i'm here, i'll always be here

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt sent in anonymously--thank you, stranger.

“It’s just one party.”

“And I’m _just _not going.”

They’d had this conversation before. It didn’t _always _go the same way, but it was a pretty recurring argument.

Julia leaned back in Quentin’s desk chair, frustrated. His dorm room was decorated with nerdy posters, the Fillory books featured prominently on the little shelves above the desk. And the floor was covered in dirty clothes.

It looked, in short, exactly the same as his bedroom back home looked.

It almost made Julia sad to think about. She tried to picture Q bringing someone home from a party here—some red-haired, quick-witted girl, or some soft-spoken smiling guy. The kind of person who might be charmed by Quentin’s earnest shyness or endless nerdiness. She tried to picture Quentin explaining himself in oblivious rambles—only half-realizing what this room might look like to fresh eyes.

Julia didn’t want to run Quentin’s life, but she did want to try and help him where she could.

She could never talk him into replacing the nerdy posters. She could _really _never talk him into putting the Fillory books away. She could maybe talk him into cleaning his room, on a good day. Maybe.

The best she could do, usually, was drag Quentin out to parties or study groups to make sure he didn’t hide in his room forever. He didn’t even have a roommate—he’d woken up early enough when they were applying for student housing that he got one of the few singles in the building.

Julia worried about him, if she was being honest. She worried that he’d get stuck in one of his moods and he wouldn’t leave his room and he’d forget to eat or ask for help. And he didn’t even have a roommate to check up on him or notice when he couldn’t get out of bed.

“Come on, Q. It’ll be fun.” She crossed her legs, spinning his chair with her foot. “And I swear, Nora won’t be there.”

Quentin shot her a dirty look. “Okay, I wasn’t even _worried _about running into Nora, but I sure am now.”

“She won’t be there!”

Q groaned, putting his hands to his face.

It wasn’t like what had happened was even that bad—Q had been rambling to her about something and then spilled his drink down her shirt. She’d gotten mad and snapped at him. It was weeks ago, but Q was still mortified.

“Okay, look, the party won’t even be that big, okay? It’s just, like, James and his friends throwing it.”

“If James is throwing it—” Quentin shot her a look before pushing his hair back self-consciously. “It might _get _pretty big.”

His voice trailed off into murmurs, getting right to the edge of bitterness.

Julia _got _it, on one level—James had been making friends left and right. Not even she could keep up with all of the new people he was getting to know, so she could understand that Quentin might be overwhelmed or irritated by the way their little group dynamic had changed.

“Well, _I’m _going,” Julia said, crossing her arms. “And I know you’re the president of the Anti-Social Club, but why don’t you join me?”

Quentin rolled his eyes, retreating further into the wall as he pulled his knees up to his chest.

“You can just go without me,” he muttered. “You’d, like, um—well. Probably have more fun that way anyway.”

A spike of sympathy hit Julia’s chest. She softened. Quentin was curling in on himself so much. He looked years younger.

She got up from the desk, settling on the floor next to Quentin, her shoulder pressed against his.

“Maybe getting you out will do you some good,” she said, as gently as she could. “Maybe you’ll feel better.”

Quentin angled himself away from her ever so slightly.

“God, Jules, I’m—I’m fine, okay? I don’t need, like. A babysitter. Alright? It’s fine, whatever, I’m fine.”

Julia chewed on the inside of her cheek a little bit—

She knew Quentin got frustrated sometimes with how pushy she could be. She knew it could agitate him when she worried about him or tried to force him into things like this.

But he didn’t know what it had been like for her, when he’d gotten really bad. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know—how could he? He was the one going through it.

The fact of the matter was, whenever Quentin started to retreat or isolate himself like this, Julia could feel the lingering panic. She _remembered. _It was like he wasn’t even there anymore. His ever-expressive face was slack and vacant. He could barely form a sentence, let alone get caught up in one of his stupid nerdy rambles.

It was _terrifying. _And Julia never really stopped being scared. She’d visited him when he was hospitalized, and she still remembered the sharp smell and the pastel paintings perfectly in her mind. The image of Quentin curled in that bed was etched into her forever.

She’d never be able to tell him how she felt. It wouldn’t be fair—she couldn’t put that on him.

So instead, she did this. Tried to pull him out of his room, tried to keep an eye on him, hovered over him at any sign that he might be slipping again.

She couldn’t not worry about him. He was her family.

“You really don’t wanna go?” she said softly.

“I really, really don’t.”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He didn’t look _great. _Bloodshot eyes, unwashed hair, pale cheeks.

“Well, _fine, _you called my bluff. I don’t wanna go if you’re not there,” she declared firmly.

“Jules—”

“So what are we doing tonight, then?” Julia asked as cheerfully as she could, not wanting to give him a chance to protest.

He ran a hand over his hair. “Um. I was—I was just gonna read the Fillory books.”

“Oh, wait, I got it—let’s watch the Fillory documentary again, yeah? It’s been a while since we’ve done that.” She leaned up a little, feeling better now that they had _something. _“Should we order pizza? Are you hungry?”

“Um. Not, uh. Not really.”

Julia narrowed her eyes at him. “Q, be honest. What have you eaten today?”

“Uh—” Quentin looked at her quickly before staring back at the ground. “I mean. I _have _eaten today.”

“Oh, yeah? Was it something that qualifies as food?”

“Well…”

“Coldwater, you’re so lucky to have me. We’re ordering pizza.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at official-mermaid on Tumblr, if you like


End file.
